The Here And Now
by Sui-Bunny-Hop
Summary: What Happens After Death? Do We all get a Shot at a Second Chance?
1. Chapter 1

Soft whispers passed through his ears. The hushing of scared figures sang and harmonized their sobbing. As he regained that ability to lift his body of the wet ground he could only think of the noise echoing off emptiness that surrounded him. Where was he?

Was he in hell— "Ow!" His stiff hands reached for his ear.

His body felt as if he hasn't moved in hours, weeks, years. Where was he? Who was he?

"Do you know your name, spirit?" the sobbing echoed passed him.

Were they addressing him? Not him, surely not! Why would these grieving souls want anything to do with him? Were they grieving? Why were they in such pain? _Where was he?_ He held his head tighter staring in the direction he thought was down. On the floor maybe? Which way was up, which way lead back to…Where was he going? He opened his mouth to shout as he feared that his eyes were the problem and not the plane of darkness, but he could only taste dust. His coughing gave no sound as he grabbed his throat. _Water! Please—_

He fell back and stared up. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. How long had he been here? How long had he tried to escape?

"I asked you a question Spirit. If you do not answer me I will leave again." Their voice again... It was stronger this time.

"No—please—" He rolled on to his stomach and felt pain. Awful pain, truly agonizing pain came from his chest it reached his stomach, and he coughed, feeling the dust fill his mouth and spill out onto the floor.

"You _are_ awake Spirit," There was a tone in its voice. A smirking tone he had grown fond of. Something he'd use every chance he could. "Now I'll ask you again. Do you remember your name?"

 _No… Of course not!_ How could he? His name…what could it be? What was a name?

He closed his eyes only to feel the heat of the voice brush against his brow. It was moving again. Was he being circled? Was he now prey for this…this.. What was this? So many things he just didn't know or understand. He squeezed his eyes tighter. Somewhere inside of him there was a man who could comprehend many things. Analyze them and end their life before they had a chance to strike back. So why was he on the ground being circled like a corpse?

Anger and pain swarmed in his stomach. The dust heaved from his throat, and he could feel his jaw almost break off. It hung by his cheek. There was a quick move to try and grab his face but his body was far too stiff to move as fast as he could before. Instead he felt small and skinny fingers graze his chin, pushing the jaw back into place. A second hand brushed his broken cheek. A spark set off and his face was enlightened along with its face as well.

 _Where was he?_

The spark glowed to the back of his eye lids as it burned against his flesh. He wanted to scream of his new found pain but he was a man. He wasn't worth his bread if he could not hold his own.

"You are breaking…If you give me your name I can make it stop…" The cynical tone in its voice was gone. It almost sounded sympathetic now…

 _I don't know._ He was in so much pain from his body to his head that ached from these frustrating questions and the white noise crying in the background. He opened his eyes only to stare into the void around them. He felt his skin drain of any heat as fully regained himself in this pitch dark hell. _I don't know_. He felt enraged with himself. He blamed this taunting demon for his suffering. Why was it that he had ideas of who he was before but not who he was now?

"I'm losing my patience with you, spirit."

"No—don't leave—" He managed to choke out a response. "M-my name…It was—I was—"

"I do not want to hear _excuses_!" Anger filled the void as its shout echoed over the white noise. All was quiet in one sudden flash.

"You can _not_ order _me_ as if I was _one of your filthy, broken, damned souls_!" A fire started around its feet. He could smell the smoke and see the light dance on the edge of his eyes.

"Please I just—"

" _I said no!_ " With a stomp of their feet the ground shook and his instincts allowed him to push himself into a crouching position.

Their fire did not touch the ground but it still burnt as if it was dry wood. A robe draped over their feet, broken and mangled as if their flesh had been pulled off toe by toe only to display the bone. He himself was also mutilated; blood dripped from his chest. Now that he could see, he could see it all. His grey and blood free skin, his long grey hair filthy from oils and blood, hung in his face and the most important part of himself was his runes. Yes! His runes! The only way he could know his name!

"My Name is Valentine!" He tried to scream over the fire's hiss. "I am—I'm Valentine Morgenstern!"


	2. Chapter 2

He jolted from his bed, first clutching for his chest. Pain, un-imaginable pain echoed through his lung, his arm, his head and his chest? He looked down at his night shirt balled up in his own fist. He squeezed then released it. No blood. His flesh still was intact; there was no injury, no pain. Where was he?

The sunlight gleamed through the window shutters. The wooden floors creaked silently outside the bedroom door. A small click and Valentine turned his head to the east side of the room. The door hung just ever so slightly off the latch shining more light into the bedroom. _What time is it?_ He pondered as his pushed his hair out of his face. He rough fingers glazed over a scar on his cheek and then ran through his hair. Yes! He felt over his head again. Nothing too grimy and nothing mated together. He quickly adjusts to look and lift up his pillow.

Nothing again,

Not dirt, or oil, or blood seeped from his dreams into his pillow. It was pure white, just as his hair was. He stared at his hands again examining them. Old and faded scars looked as if they had sunk into his skin always on the verge of vanishing but always recovering the next morning. Calluses and other dead skin patches made his hands rough they reminded him of the effort he puts forward. His nails were trimmed at a feeble attempt to keep himself clean and proper, but since there was no one the stare at his hands it was more of a vain habit of his. On the back of his right hand stared up the Voyance rune. All was in order.

Valentine swung his legs over the side of the bed moving the heavy comforter blanket to the side. Once his feet reached the floor he could feel the winter chill hit him. His toes curled as he rose and quickly walked over to his dresser. He knew where everything was in here. From the bed against the south wall to the eastside door and the other assorted bedroom details. It was his house after all why wouldn't he know where everything was? …right?

It could have been the nightmare he had, but he just didn't feel right about this morning. After finding a pair of socks, Valentine went for the door. He never slouches when he walks his walking is that of a solider always on his guard. That's why this morning felt…odd. He stumbled when he walked tripped on a pillow that laid on the opposite side of the bed. _Unmade…again._

He scoffed to himself and opened the door.

"Valentine Morgenstern? …I've heard of you. You were the man who stood up to the angels and god himself! All to prove that you were just as powerful as Johnathan Shadowhunter... Is that why you named your sons Johnathan so you could prove a point?"

"I was only trying to help the Mudanes—the mudanes and the Shadowhunters! They needed me to at least try to persuade the angel to help."

"You're hot air will leak out of your ears next, since your mouth seems to be spouting fire." Their tone hushed him. Why should he argue with a demon?

"Morgenstern…Morgenstern…Morning star oh how you have fallen just as Lucifer. You were born for the purpose of making a fool of yourself. It is such a pity I wonder if those of the living pity you. If anyone mourned the morning star,"

 _What death? My death?_

A soft wind blew over him, he felt as if the world around him shifted. From a dark empty box of a room to a dim lighted ocean cliff. He could see! He could see everything now not just here's or there's. At first he felt hope and then he felt his nausea overcome this tattered body. He balanced well on his toes all until they gave out on him. He was usually stronger than this. He hasn't vomited in years but now here he was on his hands and knees making a mess of himself in front of the same voice that taunted him.

"Oh poor man… tch tch tch" Their tongue clicked at him as if he was a child whom was bed ridded after catching cold. "You have given me your name so I suppose I should help you.."

 _Help, yes please_ "Tell me where I am" He looked up from the ground. Blades of grass between his fingers and toes, the smell of the sea, Where was he?

"Poor poor Mourning Star I promise you I'll be gentle to your broken body…" They ignored him. Their hands brushed under his chin again he felt the tingle of his beard being brushed, but it wasn't normal it did not feel of skin.

He squinted his eyes to look up at the voice to maybe gain some ground. An idea of who he was talking to. But all he could see was the black void he saw before when he looked at them. _Coward, hiding in the shadows!_

He coughed "Show yourself to me, how am I to trust the nothingness?" He was turning to fear, which only lead to anger for him.

"My dear Mourning Star I have already shown you a new world, One that you should be familiar with…What else do you need?"

"Your face –"he hacked and sputtered tasting the vile in his mouth.

The void seemed to stand up straight and lower their tone of voice to something booming and serious. "That would not be wise, human. You may have seen unworldly events or monsters in your time but I show myself to no one"

"C-coward!" He stuttered clenching his stomach. Unable to support himself Valentine toppled over into a puddle of vomit and his on blood.

"You dare call me a coward?! You a pathetic mortal, you are the coward unable to rise up from your own death to admit your faults! Your falling has only shat on your ego and caused you to become a shell of a man—"

Valentine let out a pained sob before rolling on his back. He could either cry and accept himself or wonder off in his own mind. I wonder what it would be. To accept his fate, where would it lead him? To the abuse of this demon, one he couldn't even fight off? What good would running do?

A pained laugh echoed off in each direction. It sounded sad, desperate and above else shattered from within.

"You dare to laugh at me now?! Valentine Morgenstern I should send you to your worst nightmare than try and take pity on a man with no respect—"

"ha..haha…Please..Shadow Before I vanish, tell me your name if not your face"

An inhuman growl loomed over the land. The ocean had stop all noise. True power over this domain belonged to them, there was no doubt, but Valentine always had to push, always had to have something in his grasp before ending anything.

"You stain on heaven's gate! I have no name! I have no face! I have no Sex or gender! Nothing That could possible Link back to you wretched, inferior, filthy humans!"

"Ah—haha How sad for you…" He took in a shaking breath and stared up. Hoping to see stars but it was nothing but the void again. Their anger has brought them back to this ugly box of a room.

"Sad, you think I am sad, Mourning Star? I am not sad I cannot express those emotions to you. I can express my being to you. You could never comprehend what I am."

"I once thought you to be as an evil but you are more of a Neutral existence.."

"If I am anything to you humans, you mortals, I would be called death. A Reaper of spirits and souls and nothing more…"


End file.
